We Know We're Not Getting Anywhere
by MeeksReeks
Summary: When Stan opened his eyes in the mornings, fixing them on the same ceiling for as long as he could remember, he just felt empty. It was an unbearable pit in his stomach, a brain numbing feeling of disconnect. Struggling with backhanded feelings that he couldn't even pin a name to, Stan was in for a ride he would never forget. Stan x Kyle /slow start/Language
1. Convince Me

Do you ever open your eyes in the morning, the burn of sleep still clinging dearly, just to look around your room and wonder _...why_? Why are you still in the same position as yesterday? Why does it feel like you're not getting anywhere? His alarm was only a distant scream to him as he slapped a hand down on it, the silence in the room slowly creeping into his mind. He sat up, stretching until he heard a satisfying pop and felt the relief ripple down his spine. "Nice." He huffed, swinging his legs over the side of his bed only to retract with a grunt as his toes scraped the chilled floor. Eventually gaining the courage to brave the cold, he slipped out from under the warm protective shield that was his blanket and briskly made his way to the bathroom.  
It was always a weird feeling to him, to look at his own reflection and see a young man with mussed up raven hair and daring yet brooding blue eyes staring back at him. It made him remember he was alive. A person- sometimes that was hard to recall. Sometimes he just felt like a lifeless husk moving along in the world merely by instinct. Brainless and numb. Mirrors were like an anchor, so to speak. It was one of the few things that reminded him who Stan Marsh actually was. He furrowed his brow, concentrating on the sound of the bistles of his tooth brush scraping his teeth. Spitting into the sink, he rinsed out his toothbrush and put it away while combing through his wild bed head with his fingers. "Good enough." He muttered, leaving the bathroom and returning to his own room to get dressed for the day.

It was the last day of his senior year, which meant nothing but bullshitting around the entire day. Honestly, it didn't even make sense to go, but what the hell? Kyle was going to be there, and that was reason enough. The short tempered Jewish boy would make the day go by faster anyway. Not to mention, the boys wanted to go somewhere afterwards, which means something different to get himself out of this dull routine of what felt like seemingly nothing lately. Maybe that's what it was. Maybe he was just missing excitement in his life. Things used to be so much more fun when they were younger, whether it would be superheroes, or elves. It was always something.  
He hummed in thought, thumbing through his clothes until he settled on a white T-shirt and some loose fitting jeans. Shouldering his brown leather jacket on and zipping it up halfway, his eyes drifted to his old worn out yet lovingly handled blue and red beanie with the little red puff. Tentatively, he reached a hand out to it and snugged it over his shaggy black hair, the memories giving him a sense of warmth more so than the fabric itself. Lacing his shoes, he perked at a sudden loud tap against his window, shortly followed by another, until it turned into a loud _Thunk_! Tilting his head at the noise, the boy slowly rose from his bed and walked over to it, sliding it open with ease only to be met with another rock flying at his face.  
"Ow, dude!" He rubbed his jaw, his eyes darting down to the red head below him, the other already armed with another rock larger than before.  
Kyle Broflovski stood out in the slowly melting snow, a dull forest green zip up clinging loosely to his thin frame along with faded jeans. His emerald eyes widened as the boy quickly dropped it behind him, a cheeky grin following. "Sorry dude!" He kicked it further away. "What's taking you so long?" the shorter of the two boys threw his arms up in mock frustration. "The guys are waiting at the bus stop!"  
Stan rolled his eyes, ignoring the trickle of warmth that sparked in his stomach at seeing the boy. "I'm coming, keep your damn hat on. You could've just went ahead of me, you know." He grumbled, shutting the window before the freckled boy outside could retort.

Making his way downstairs, he plucked his bag from the back of the chair it was previously hung on and stepped past his dad without so much as a glance. The man was sprawled out on the tile in his underwear, the smell of vomit and piss striking the boy's senses as he rushed out of the house before he could stir. He couldn't help but bite back a string of curses at just seeing the man. The one person you should be able to trust was the one person in the world that he knew he never could. Not with the constant drinking, idiotic remarks, actions and the way he spoke of his mother when he drank a little too much. Which was more often than not.  
The boiling anger dissipated as soon as his friend clamped a hand on his shoulder, the smaller boy giving him a warm smile in greeting. "You excited? This is it, man! We're finally out of there." He looked up at the sky, his green hues sparkling in what little sunlight perforated the early morning clouds. "You're still up for this evening, right?" His head swiveled back to the taller boy as he swallowed thickly.

"Yeah yeah," He nodded his head, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, ignoring the dull pang of hunger in his stomach. "Nnn, but where are we going exactly?" He queried. "You guys haven't told me jack shit."  
Kyle's smile faltered, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. "I don't really know either. It was Kenny's idea, whatever it is."  
"He probably thinks you won't come if he tells you." The taller raised an eyebrow. "You think we'll end up getting into trouble again?"  
"You mean like always? Knowing Fatass and Kenny, probably." The red head crinkled his nose, his curly fro poking out from that same green hat he's worn for years. "But I told my mom I would be at your house. I'll be safe as long as she doesn't go poking around." The boy shivered, just the mere thought of his mother's shrill voice chastising him for lying to her scared him half to death. And he was _eighteen_.  
"You'd think she wouldn't be so protective of you now that you're older." Stan chuckled, sliding his free hand into his pocket as they neared ever close to the bus stop, the other two boys waiting patiently.

Noticing the sound of crunching snow, the blonde's head perked up as he gave the duo a wave. "Hey guys!" He stumbled over to them. His sky blue eyes looked even brighter against the orange and black letterman jacket he sported as he grinned from ear to ear. "You aren't going to pussy out on me tonight, are ya?" He smirked, sliding between the two and throwing his arms over their shoulders. "It wouldn't be the same without you~" He cooed, bringing the two boys closer to him.  
"Depends. Are you going to continue to leave us in the dark about it? What do you have planned?" Stan narrowed his eyes, knowing all too well how much the lanky blonde liked to party. He was reckless when it came to himself, but on the other hand he DID get a job as soon as he turned sixteen just to support his younger sister. He wasn't bad, just...reckless. A real party animal.  
"Remind me again why you had to invite the dirty Jew rat?" Cartman sneered, his beady little eyes landing on the boy.  
"Shut the hell up, Cartman!" The boy in question snapped, his finger jabbing into the larger boy's gut. "He probably knows I would be better company than you, you fat fuck!"  
"AYE." The brunette squawked in defense, his gloved hand slapping the other boy's away. "Fuck _YOU_ , you greedy little Jew! Kenny doesn't know what he's getting into. Poor people aren't very smart." The boy chortled, his obnoxious laughter only making Kyle's face heat up more.  
"Knock it off you guys," Stan sighed, instinctively grabbing Kyle's arm to jerk him away from Eric. "It's too early for you guys to be at each other's throats, no matter how much I want to see Kyle kick your fatass." The boy smirked, the comment eliciting another wave of backlash from Cartman, which he firmly ignored until the boy finally gave up.

Hearing the roar of the bus as it sped in their direction, the boys stood and waited until it pulled up beside them, the doors opening with a soft _hsssh_. Saying their good mornings to the bus driver, they were quick to find their seats in the very back of the nearly empty bus as it slowly rocked back onto it's route to the school. 

Stan heaved out a heavy sigh, the tip of his pencil tapping against blank notebook paper several times, the graphite splitting with every tap. He just couldn't think of anything to write, nor did he really care about such a stupid assignment. It was barely third period, the time ticking slowly, and their lovely teacher decided it would be a good idea to write letters to the newer students that would be coming in the fall. Letters about favorite class activities, jokes, or even tips on surviving the hell that is high school. _How am I even supposed to start this?_ He swallowed dryly, scratching at his temple. He merely scribbled whatever lame ass inspirational quote jumped to his mind and left it at that, sealing the envelope with the letter inside before tossing it carelessly to the edge of his desk. His eyes shifted to the boy to his left, the fiery red head scribbling away, his letter nearly a full page. Bright emerald eyes focused, thin lips in a tight concentrated line, brow furrowed as his pencil burned away at the paper. Stan could only imagine what he was writing, no doubt something filled with intensity and emotion that came straight from the heart. Kyle was just like that- too compassionate for his own good sometimes. He was too, but Kyle's heart left him in more than enough trouble, especially whenever the fat boy has them convinced he's changed for the better. It was almost like he was gullible, but at the same time he knew the boy just always tried to see the good in everyone. He chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes hovering over his friend absentmindedly who in turn looked up to meet his stare.

"Are you done already?" His voice melted in with the rest of the droning students around them, the class talking amongst themselves in a quiet rumble.  
Stan glanced between his friend, and the teacher who sat at the front of the classroom, his eyes on his phone. All too busy to notice the boy pick up his chair and scoot it over to Kyle's desk. "It's as done as it's going to get." He kept his voice low, his eyes skimming over what Kyle was writing, only to be blocked by the pale ginger's hands.  
"Dude, don't read it!" He hissed, a soft pink dusting his features. "And what's that supposed to mean? Is it really so hard to be as genuine to people as you are with animals?"  
Stan paused, nibbling his lower lip, holding eye contact with the young Jewish boy. "Uh...no? I could totally do that."  
Kyle eyed the boy, slapping his hand away when he tried to pry his away from the paper. "You're full of it."  
The raven haired boy sucked in his cheek, his eyes rolling at the red head. "It's not that big of a deal, but whatever." He grumbled, resting his head against his arm, his eyes on his friend. Thankfully, the room wasn't so quiet, or else you could hear his stomach growling periodically. Though, he couldn't help but notice his friend give him a knowing look.  
"You're like, really sluggish today. Did you skip breakfast again?" The boy prodded, his pencil jabbing sharply against Stan's forehead.  
"I didn't want to get held up by another drunk speech from my dad." He deadpanned, his eyes flitting up to Kyle's. "I'll eat at lunch. I'm not going to die from skipping one meal." He huffed, drawing circles into the desk with his finger.  
"My mom packed me some gefilte fish leftovers from last night if you want any."  
Stan's stomach churned, "Uh, I'm good. I'll just grab some of whatever Chef's serving, thanks."  
He only shrugged in response. "Suit yourself, buddy."

It didn't take long for the time to tick by, the boys sitting in comfortable silence. Stan with his head still resting on Kyle's desk, and Kyle now on his phone having already finished his letter. The bell rung, signaling the end of class and the beginning of lunch, students eagerly pouring out from the door. The two of them walked in unison, their steps timed perfectly with one another without them even realizing it.

"Well hello, you gay homosexuals." Came the irritable voice of Eric Cartman from behind, the chunky brunette pushing his way between the boys. "What did you little fag boys write about?"  
"None of your business you fat asshole." Kyle shot the snarky reply, crossing his arms and inching as far away from him as possible. "Where's Kenny?"  
"Right here~" The dirty blond purred, his arm snaking around Kyle easily. "So, you guys wanna hear what I have planned?" He cheesed, his eyes bouncing between the group. In a hushed gesture, he waved the group to huddle in, his voice but a whisper against the sound of rushed steps and chattering around them.  
"Wait, _ **WHAT**_?" Kyle's shrill voice broke, his eyes widening. "I can't go to something like _that_!" He gripped the sides of his ushanka in panic. "My mom would kill me if she found out!"  
"Who says she has to know?" Kenny snorted, his hand placed on his hip. "We're not getting any younger, Kyle. Come on, have a little fun." He playfully pushed against the boy's shoulder, only getting a grunt in response. "It's not like she can do anything more than ground you anyway...which would be pretty embarrassing in your case." He snickered, patting Kyle's shoulder before giving it a squeeze. "Plus, Stan's going. Right?" He turned to the boy with a smirk. "And if Stan goes, you know you're going to end up going too, so why fight it?" He wiggled his eyebrows.  
Stan only shrugged in response, his eyes flicking over to meet green ones. "Don't worry," he smiled. "If you don't want to go, I'll keep you company either way. That's what SBF's do, right?" He chuckled, holding his fist out to the Jew who happily returned the fist bump.  
"I hate you guys," Cartman grumbled, his chubby face darkening to a scowl. "It's fucking nasty you guys."  
Stan merely shook his head, retaking his position to the right of the red head this time, his shoulder grazing against the other boy's as they walked, Kenny's arm still resting stubbornly around the shorter boy's neck.  
"W-well," Kyle sighed through his nose, pushing Kenny's arm away with a frown. "I guess I can go... b-but I'm not drinking a damn thing. If you guys want to make a fool of yourselves, be my guest." He snipped, wiping at his nose.  
"Oh stop overreacting." the dirty blond groused. "Trust me, you need this experience." He gave him a toothy grin. "Maybe you'll even get lucky and-"  
Kyle silenced him with a hard punch to the arm and a stare that meant he would have hell to pay if he continued. "Kenny! I don't even want to think about that!" He gnawed the edge of his lip, his face contorted in frustration.

The rest of the day carried on normally, the boys ripping on each other for the same old things between discussions of video games, girls, yearbook signing, and the oncoming grad party at Token's. The party that, in all reality, Stan wasn't looking forward to. Well, it was more the fact that he had a feeling deep in the back of his mind, that the night was going to go to shit. Shitty music, shitty people, and shitty attempts to keep face. Not that his friend circle was all that terrible, but the mere fact that there would be plenty of people he didn't even know stoned and shit faced all around him... didn't seem the most appealing. It just seemed like a stupid scene he didn't want to be caught at. He couldn't help but wish that he and Kyle could just do their own thing, see a movie, even just sit in his bedroom and talk until the sun came up. Yeah, that sounded a lot more appealing than getting blitzed at a party, but who knows? Maybe it won't be so bad. It's not like he's never been to something like that before- it just wasn't quite as huge of a get together.  
"Stan?" a familiar voice rang in his ears, a light hand falling on his shoulder. "Hell-o? Stan?" The voice called again, causing the taller raven haired boy to blink away his thoughts, his eyes shifting down to his friend.  
"S-sorry, were you saying something?" He cleared his throat, fumbling over his words.  
"I said, do you want to wait at my house or yours? The party doesn't start until six." Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Are you feeling okay? Lately you seem so...out of it." The end of his sentence was barely audible, a look of concern flashing over his features.  
"I'm fine!" Stan abruptly barked, the volume of his voice making the other boy stagger back in surprise.  
"Jeez, dude." He winced, rubbing his arm timidly. "Sorry for asking." his voice was a murmur as his eyes shot between Stan and the concrete, the boy's having decided to walk home instead of take the bus. "Well? Which is it then?" He perked up, recovering almost immediately. "My house or yours? Cartman said he would stop to pick us up when it was time to head out."  
"Cartman said that?"  
"Well, no, Kenny said he would do it or get his ass kicked. Then he called him a blood belching vagina."  
"What the fuck, dude?" Stan furrowed his brows before shrugging. "Want to go to my place then?"

Kicking off his shoes at his door, Stan was happy to fall face first into his bed, his tired eyes shooting open when he felt the bed sink in next to him. He rested his cheek against his arms, breathing out a sigh of content. "Are you sure you want to go to this thing?" He inquired, resting his eyes.  
He could feel the boy next to him shift before he spoke, sounding unsure. "Yes?" He started. Silence. "Maybe?" He huffed. "I'm nervous, okay?"  
"Nervous?"  
"What if my mom finds out? What if something crazy happens?"  
"Live a little." Came Stan's tired response. "Whatever happens won't affect you forever." He rolled onto his back, moving his arms behind his head. His chest rose and fell with each slow breath he took, his voice a throaty grumble. "If you never learn how to roll with things, you're going to end up like Tweek." He cracked open an eye at the freckled boy beside him, his lips turning up in a lazy smile. "Don't worry so much. I'm going to be there."  
Kyle rolled his eyes, shifting onto his side, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand. The sleeve of the oversized jacket he wore slipped down the length of his arm, revealing a thin black beaded bracelet. "You're probably going to be the one person I have to keep my eye on the most. You're no stranger to alcohol."  
"I'm no stranger to a lot of things."  
"You say that like it's a good thing."  
The dark haired teen moved onto his side, his bangs falling over his eyes. His eyes felt heavy with sleep, his senses intoxicated by comfort, his body relaxed. He struggled to keep his eyes open, his vision of the red head blurring in and out of focus. "What's so bad about having a little fun every now and then?" He cheesed, reaching his hand out to gently thump him in the head. "You'll loosen up."  
To his surprise, his friend caught his hand before he could pull it back. His blue eyes widened, his breath hitched in his throat. He couldn't understand where that sudden anxious feeling bubbled up, but he could already feel bile pushing up from his gut. He clamped his mouth shut, swallowing thickly, his brows knitted at Kyle. _Relax_ , he told himself, blinking away his nausea.  
Lucky enough for him, Kyle was too busy brooding to pay much mind to his reaction. "Dude, I'm serious." His tone was harsh, but level as he shoved away Stan's hand. "Can you maybe not do anything stupid? Last time you showed up at my door with vomit down the front of your shirt slurring nonsense I couldn't even understand. You're lucky Barbrady didn't notice you stumbling down the got damn street!"  
"If you would let loose just once, you would like it." He argued, coddling his hand as if he'd been wounded. "You're not going to die, get caught, or worse. It'll be fun." He sat up, resting his back against the headboard of his bed.  
"You don't _know_ that, Stan." His freckled counterpart pushed himself up as well, crossing his legs as he sat to face his friend.  
"Kyle, dude-" He huffed, shrugging his shoulders. "How can you say that when you don't know either, huh?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for his friend to answer.  
The ginger paused, his mouth opening with only a stifled grunt before he brought his hand to his chin in thought. "I..." He started, his eyes focused in his lap. As soon as he looked up to meet Stan with a glare, he already knew he won this argument.  
"Exactly. Since when are you so tense anyway?" He scooted closer, his blue eyes boring into Kyle from under his oil black bangs. "Are you sure something isn't bothering _you_?" He asked, his voice hushed.  
Emerald hues darted between Stan and his sheets, the boy having a hard time looking him in the eye. He leaned away slightly, his voice caught in his throat. "Uhm, positive." He squeaked out, feeling his palms start to sweat. What was with that? Was he actually intimidated or...? He shook his head rapidly, hunching forward. "Whatever, man." He snipped, scowling deeply. "We'll see what happens."


	2. Bad Habits

A blaring horn pierced the air, Eric pounding his hand against his steering wheel obnoxiously. Rolling the window down on the passenger side of his truck, he screamed out the window. "Hurry up, douchebags!" He yelled sourly. It was already nearing 7pm by the time he arrived, the boy having lost track of time.

Kenny pressed as far back into his seat as he could, rolling his eyes at the brunette that leaned over him before shoving him back into the driver's seat. "Would you relax? I'm sure they're coming."

The front door to Stan's house swung open, Stan dragging Kyle behind him as the two boy's waved goodbye to his mother. They clambered into the back seat of the truck, not bothering with seat belts as Cartman pulled away from the curb with a screech.

"You guys ready for this?" Kenny beamed, the dirty blond twisting around in his seat to gaze at the two boys excitedly. "There's going to be everything you could possibly imagine at this party!" He grinned, cupping his mouth and leaning forward. "And I mean... _everything_." He purred, raising his eyebrows.

 _Only God knows what that could mean_ , Stan rumbled internally, his face breaking into a weak smile. "Do you have any idea who's coming?"

"Pft, everyone? He invited all the seniors he could...well, except for Cartman really but-" His eyes darted between the man at the wheel and Stan. "There's no way he can keep him out." He shrugged. "Jimmy's going to be there for sure... So is Craig, Tweek, Bebe..." Kenny mumbled to himself, "Oh! Wendy's going too." He smiled warmly, a look of satisfaction crossing his eyes at Stan's sudden frown. "What, did you think she _wouldn't_ be there?" He chuckled, turning to face forward. "Too late to back out now, Stan. You can't avoid her forever."

"Fuck you, man..." The raven haired teen mumbled in response, his hands gripping at his jeans absentmindedly. He could feel his stomach twist and pinch at every bump in the road. "It doesn't matter if she's there or not." He narrowed his eyes. "I told you guys I was over it. The off and on is bullshit, even I see that now."

"Remember when you became one of those faggy goth kids?" Eric piped in, his thick face screwed up in his usual sadistic smile, eyes taunting. "All you did was bitch about pain for like a week."

Hearing Kyle snicker beside him, his face flushed red. "You guys, I was fucking _nine_."

"So?" The red head interjected, "it still happened." He chuckled into his hand. "What was that poem you wrote again?" He cleared his throat. "There is darkness all around me, deep piercing black." He clutched his chest, his eyes swiveling to Stan. "I can not breathe, my heart...has been raped." He breathed out the words dramatically, his voice breaking down in soft laughter. "What was that last part?"

"The pain is everlasting!" Kenny threw his arm over his eyes. "I miss you so much babe. I want to hold you again girl, I want to-"

"Dude, shut up!" Stan warned through gritted teeth, his feet slamming into the back of Kenny's seat, sending the boy jolting forward in laughter. "That was nine fucking years ago, how do you guys even remember that?" The teen boiled, his fists clenched in his lap. Revisiting the memory was humiliating. It left a sour taste in his mouth thinking about the ache he had felt in his chest over the girl all those years ago. Sure, they tried again not long after...and again...and again. Thinking back on it though, part of him wished he hadn't wasted so much of his youth chasing after just one girl. He heaved a sigh, his eyes shifting to the window, the silhouette of Token's house finally coming into view. Plenty have people had already arrived, cars parked along the curb and lining the street.

It wasn't long before the boys had pushed past the gate, the trio leaving Cartman behind to haggle his way past security. Stan couldn't help but notice a fidgetting and uncomfortable Kyle, the freckled boy standing so close to him he could feel warmth leaking off of him. He gave him a tender nudge to the kitchen, Kenny following with a skip in his step as he took in his surroundings.

"See, I would've been set for life if I got Token to be my friend." He tsked, his hand already reaching for one of the many types of beers that sat on the counter. He popped the tab open, bringing it to his lips for a long swig. "Instead I got stuck with you assholes." He joked, leaning against the counter. "Want one, Kyle?" He shook the can at his friend.

"We just got here!" The red head fumed, his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't you think you should wait a little bit or something?"

"Wait?" He cocked an eyebrow at the shorter boy before giving a snort. "Dude, don't be such a pussy." He pushed a cold can into Kyle's hands. "Think of this as your one night to have fun." And with that, he slipped out of the kitchen, leaving the two boys alone.

Kyle sighed deeply, running his thumb over the can in thought before shaking his head and holding it out to Stan. "I'm not ready for it right now. You want it?" He asked, his eyes hopeful. "I feel like I might throw up if I try to do this _now_." He swallowed audibly, anxious butterflies dancing around in his stomach.

"You know, the quicker you get some alcohol in you, the easier it'll be to open up." He grabbed the can of beer from his friend's waiting hands. Using one finger, he pulled the tab while his eyes skimmed over the many choices that were splayed out before them. "You want to try something sweet?" He chewed the inside of his cheek in thought, picking up a bottle of smirnoff and holding it out for the boy to see. "It has a low alcohol content, not too bitter either."

The ginger crinkled his nose at the bottle, his eyes lifting to meet Stan's. "Dude," he started. "Even I know that's a pussy drink."

With a grunt and an eyeroll, Stan reached to the counter once more, plucking a solo cup from the stack. "Then we'll do it this way." He grumbled, twisting the lid off of the bottle and pouring it out into the red cup. "This way no one knows what you're drinking and-" He tossed the glass bottle in the trash before handing the cup to his friend. "It won't be so hard to keep down." He gestured for the boy to take the cup, which he reluctantly did.

"Thank you..." He mumbled quietly, his eyes focused on the contents of the cup.

" _Relax_ , Kyle." He squeezed his shoulder softly. "You gonna let Cartman hold it over your head later when he figures out you didn't do shit at a _grad_ party of all things?" He smiled, the look on the red head's face enough to let him know he struck a nerve.

His face scrunched at the thought of Eric's annoying howling, his hand tightening around the cup as he gnawed his lip in thought. With a sigh, he tipped the cup to his lips, the soft burn of the orange tasting wine cooler flowing down his throat. Within minutes, he downed the cup entirely, pouring himself one more before following Stan out of the kitchen.

"Not so bad, right?" Stan leaned in to speak to Kyle over the music that suddenly picked up around them, the ginger already working his second cup down. "You might want to slow down a little."

"Why are you telling me to slow down now?" He bit out, stubbornly guzzling down the rest of his drink, his cheeks already a deep rosy red. He felt a dull ache in his shoulders, the sound of the music thumping loudly against his ear drums. "Ngh, my face is on fire." He muttered to himself, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

"You're drinking them too fast, dumbass." Stan shook his head, taking a sip of his own beer with a raise of his eyebrows. "You...you've never drank before, have you?" He chuckled at his friend's intolerance, the boy next to him already seeming to sway. "You some sort of lightweight? I bet you couldn't outdrink a freshman." He bit his tongue. _Oops_ , was the first thought that crossed his mind, already noticing the twinge in Kyle's eye at his statement. He knew all too well what that look meant. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the red head's temper flared up.

"You wanna bet on that?" He clumsily jabbed a finger into Stan's chest. "I bet I could outdrink you and Kenny combined!" He stumbled, almost seeming out of breath as he leaned against the wall. He narrowed his eyes coldly, brushing his disheveled curls out of his eyes. The boy always did have a bad habit of making everything out to be a challenge.

Stan widened his eyes in shock before finding himself smiling down at the freckled teen. "Oh yeah?" He grinned, looking his friend up and down. "You wouldn't last." He taunted smugly. "You'll be out cold before you even realize it and I'm going to have to be the one to carry your drunk ass home." He emphasized the last three words with a smirk, a warm feeling rising in his gut as he watched the boy squirm in protest.

Before he knew it, the can that was once fit snuggly in his palm was now being downed by a very determined Kyle, his eyes shut tight at the bitter taste of the beer.

" _Dude_ ," Stan froze, his mouth hanging open as he watched the ginger wipe at his chin, that same look still glued on his face. "You couldn't have grabbed another one? Now I have to go in there just to catch up with you." He grumbled, looking away nervously. It was already made certain that the boy was adamant. Riling him up only made things worse. He clamped his mouth shut, meeting his friend's gaze with a matching expression. "Okay Kyle. You're on."

The both of them were neck and neck, five beers, two shots, and still counting. Kyle was resolute and unswerving even though Stan knew he had to be feeling like complete shit. He had to hand it to him though, he didn't even think he would last as long as he did. His stomach lurched in protest as he poured another shot, the mere memory of the bitter liquor staining his tastebuds. He was only feeling slightly buzzed now, his face starting to grow with the same heat that Kyle had been sporting for well over an hour.

"You ready to give in yet?" He chuckled loosely, moving the bottle over to pour Kyle another shot as well, the party around them now in full swing. The music bumped and boomed, the cacophnous sound of chattering and laughter reverberating through the walls.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He sneered in response, uncoordinated hands reaching to grasp his shot glass, glazed over forest hues knitting in reluctance. Swallowing thickly, he tossed his head back, emptying the glass with a garbled mewl before slamming it back down. "Ugh..." He wheezed, his hand clutching his stomach.

 _It won't be long now_ , Stan raised his eyebrows. It was always amazing how far Kyle's temper could carry him. It was endearing to him in a way. Taking his own shot like a champ, he set it back down on the coffee table softly, leaning back into the comfortable cushion of Token's couch. He took a moment to take in his surroundings, his eyes dancing across everyone who had migrated into the living room.

Cartman, the sleezy bastard, managed to get his way in the end, the obnoxious teen tearing into every snack he got his hands on. Kenny was already latched onto someone's hip, the cheerful blond obviously laying it on his target judging by her blush and wide smile. There had to be at least thirty people bunched in this part of the house alone, and of course Stan was lucky enough to make eye contact with Wendy. He felt a sudden pang in his chest at the sight of her, his smile fading into a tight line. _Great_. Of course she saw their locking eyes as invitation to make a beeline for him.

"Hey, Stan!" She chirped, her voice still sweet and calm over the roar of the music. "You mind if I...?" She looked down at him, her black hair framing her face as the gestured to the couch.

It took all his effort not to just get up and leave right then and there, his body feeling like lead as he shifted closer to Kyle, making room for her on the couch. "Hey," he started, his eyes darting between the girl and his obviously wasted best friend. Ignoring the sudden weight against his shoulder, he continued. "So... what's up?" He glanced at the girl, feeling Kyle's eyes burning holes into him.

"Oh, you know..." She smiled down at the solo cup in her hands. "Same old thing, different day." She perked up, nudging him with her shoulder gently. "I didn't think you were going to come! Nobody said anything."

"I didn't know I was coming." He shrugged, trying to keep it short in hopes she would leave. It still hurt to see her so happy. He could only wonder why she wanted to talk to him after everything that happened. After their break up- after the words she said to him. Was he just supposed to forget about that? It's not like he didn't have choice words for her too but... He heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes as if the action would sober him up enough to gain control of his thoughts.

"So Stan," she reached a tentative hand to his shoulder, her eyes almost seeming to look hopeful. "I just wanted to know if maybe you wanted to-"

"Stan," he felt a hand grip his arm weakly, pulling his attention down to the boy next to him. "Dude, I think I'm gonna heave." The red head slurred, his half lidded eyes losing the fiery sheen they had moments before. "I'm gonna-" He shifted, leaning forward as he sucked in short and shaky breaths. "I'm gonna...go to the bathroom." He tried to stand, his hand resting on the side table near the couch. The lamp perched on it shook as he pushed himself to take another step, his vision swimming as the room around him seemed to bend and wave with the music. " _Fuck_ ," he groaned as he stumbled on, leaning into every wall he could for support.

A pinch of guilt in his stomach, the raven haired teen couldn't shake the fact that Kyle's current state was his fault. He shook his head as he started to stand from the couch, snapping his head back to Wendy as she latched onto his arm. He blinked at her, his thoughts clouded.

"Wait! I just wanted to ask if you-"

"Listen, can we talk later?" He slipped his arm out of her hold, inching away from her. "I need to go check on him." He turned on his heel, fighting back the urge to hear what she had to say even though he knew it would just start the same painful cycle it always did. I don't care anymore, he reminded himself. I'm not going back. I know better. He repeated it over and over again in his mind. Someday he would believe it. He was going to force himself to. The worry he felt for his friend drowned out the constant rumble of his thoughts as he slipped a hand under his arm. "Do you need some help?"

With a jerk, the ginger freed himself of Stan's hand, his face screwed up in what was either pain or irritation. "I don't need you to hold my hand the way there, Stan." He bit out, slumping against the taller despite his previous quip.

He rolled his eyes, pulling Kyle's arm around him for support. "Would you quit being so stubborn for like 10 seconds and let me help you? It's not like you're going to make it upstairs. Not like this."

It took a good amount of effort, what with pushing through the crowded stairs and chasing out a blooming bathroom escapade, but the boys made it to the nearly pristine bathroom. The porcelain throne sparkled safe for the minor spots of throw up that was left over from someone else's bad night.

Kyle dropped to his knees beside it, his hands gripping the sides of it as hot vomit ripped through his throat. He retched between every breath, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. _Oh God_ , he could only brace himself as his stomach tightened, another rush of bile shooting up his throat. He heard the door lock and felt a hand on his back, rubbing in slow circles. "Shit," he cursed, wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. Slipping a hand through his hair, he pulled off his hat, leaning against the toilet while he caught his breath.

"What, did that gifelte fish come back up with a vengance?" Stan chuckled softly, the music somewhat blocked by the door. He dropped down onto the bathroom tile next to the flustered Jewish boy, promptly flushing the toilet. "Looks like little Broflovski couldn't keep up with the big boys after all, huh?" He teased, relishing in the intense glare the boy gave him.

"Up yours, Marsh." The boy grumbled in response, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "Why is the room still spinning?" He sighed in defeat, his head dropping to meet Stan's eyes. "Do we have to go back out there?" He groaned. "I don't think I can take anymore of this music." He brought his knees up to his chest, resting his face against his palms.

"Well, we can't stay in here." Stan stood, holding a hand out to his super best friend of nearly nine years. "Come on, I'll get a hold of someone and we can drop you off at your hou-"

"Dude, are you crazy!" The red head jumped to his feet, regret consuming him as he swayed into the wall behind him. "I-" He huffed, rubbing the back of his head, his hat still gripped firmly in his hand. "I can't go back home, I already _told_ you! Mom's gonna kill me, man!" He whimpered, his free hand tangling into his curly hair.

"Woah woah woah," his muscles tensed at seeing how much the boy swayed and stumbled. "Would you quit moving so much? J-just hold on." He sighed, pulling the smaller framed teen against his side. "Calm down, okay? I'll...we can..." He pierced his lips tightly. "I'll call somebody and we can go to my place, okay?" He patted his hand against his shoulder, pulling the crumpled ushanka from his hand and settling it down over his twisted mess of fiery red hair.

They weren't the only two who vacated to the lawn for the night. There was a number of people congregating around the garage or passed out near the shrubs as the two settled down near the gate. The cool night are was crisp and calm, the music barely audible from their spot on the curb.

"Who did you call?" Kyle spoke softly, fighting to stay upright only to lean further into his friend. The cool air felt good on his still burning face, his aching shoulders feeling heavier than before. He stretched his legs out over the pavement, grumbling incoherently.

"I called Butters." Stan rubbed his palm up and down the red head's arm, his free hand reaching around to push bottle of water into his lap. "Drink some of this. He'll be here soon."

Kyle fumbled with the cap awkwardly, his long slender fingers nearly spilling the water as he brought it to his lips, taking a long slow drink. "You called Butters? Seriously?" He inhaled deeply, sighing through his nose.

"He was the only person that I could think of. Why? Would you rather walk to my house?" Pulling the surly ginger from the sidewalk, he steadied him as a small blue KIA pulled up beside them. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal a gently smiling blond.

"Well h-hey there fellas." He said in his same sweet inflection he had for years. "Ya guys okay?" He popped the door open as Stan slipped Kyle into the front seat. "Ya don't look very okay if you don't mind me sayin', Kyle. Y-you look like ya don't feel good at all." He gave his shoulder a soft pat as the boy slumped against the seat. "Boy, I bet it sure was fun though, right? I wish I could'a gone, b-but my parents would ground me for sure." He pulled the car into gear, steadily rolling down the road.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss much." Stan chimed in from the back seat. "It would've been nice if you came though." He chuckled, thinking a drunk Butters could either be a total nightmare or a total riot. "Kyle tried to outdrink me. You see how that worked out for him."

Kyle only groaned from the front seat, his eyes squeezed shut so he didn't have to watch the trees fly by the window. It was making his stomach pinch and churn like it never has before, and the boy could feel bile rising into his throat once again. "A-are we almost there?" He choked out. The normally five minute ride was starting to feel like an eternity to him.

"Almost, little buddy." The angel faced teen cooed, finding himself going five miles over the speed limit. "We're about to pull up right...now." He pulled into Stan's driveway, putting his car into park. "D-do ya need help gettin' him inside, Stan?" He twisted in his seat, his eyes glued on the raven haired boy. "I sure wouldn't mind helpin' ya. I wouldn't want ya to go tumblin' down the stairs because I didn't and then-"

"It's cool, I got it." He waved the boy off, slipping out of the back seat and pulling the passenger side door open. He beckoned for the red head to come to him, which the boy did hesitantly. Draping Kyle's arm over his shoulder, he held tightly to his wrist, his other hand resting on his arm to keep him from swaying. "Thanks for this, Butters. I owe you one." He gave the boy a nod and a smile, his eyes drifting to his own house.

"Anytime, fellas." his cherub face lit up with another smile. "Ya know you can call me anytime!" The blond gave the two an excited wave. "Ya'll be careful now." He wrung his fingers in his lap. "Don't go gettin' into trouble."

Stan watched as Butters pulled away, his house just two houses down from his.

With a grunt he walked Kyle to the front door, digging his hand down into the front pocket of his jeans as he fished for his keys. Sliding them into the lock, he pushed the door open gingerly, his eyes scanning the room. _Nobody home_.

He eased his friend into the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before making the difficult journey up the stairs and to his bedroom.

Kyle plopped down on his best friend's bed, fighting to keep his eyes open since every time he blinked he felt like he was on another time frame. He stared hazily at Stan, the boy sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking off his shoes.

"You wanna eat something?" He asked, leaning back against the mattress, blue eyes meeting green ones.

"No way," Kyle slurred, cupping his mouth when a hiccup escaped his throat. "You know what I w- hic wanna do, Stan?" He sat up abruptly, rocking back and forth and gripping the bed. "Le's do somethin' crazy." he snickered.

Stan raised his eyebrows at the boy, sitting up next to him. "What? Dude! You were just on the edge of passing out!" He pushed the red head back down onto the bed, his hands squeezing around his wrists on either side of him. "You're going to lay here and sober up before you go anywhere." He growled, struggling to keep the drunk teen in check.

In one surprisingly swift movement, Kyle had Stan pinned under him, holding his hands down against his chest as he laughed at the boy beneath him. "Not so tough are ya?" He giggled, straddling his hips.

Stan felt his face erupt in heat, straining against the freckled boy's hands. He blamed the fluttering in his stomach on the alcohol that sloshed in his system. "Fuck you, Kyle!" He spat, kicking his legs up in an attempt to fling the boy off of him to no avail. He could only widen his eyes in shock as his friend leaned in, an ever present smile glued to his face. His cheeks were flushed with color that was so bright in contrast to his pale skin, his liquor infused breath ghosting over his ear. Stan flung him off, shooting off of the bed with a yelp. His whole body felt like it was vibrating, the boy only just now realizing how long he had been holding his breath as he panted for air.

"What the _fuck_ dude!" He choked out, his hand clenching his chest tightly. He could only glare at the red head as he rolled around on his bed, laughing so hard his eyes were watering.

"Dude, you should see the look on your face right now!" He doubled over, wiping at his eyes, his laughter slowly dissipating into soft chuckles. He pulled his knees up to his chest, pulling his ushanka from his curled ringlets and chucking it at the boy. "You scared, Marsh?" He teased, his head lolling over to the side as he grinned.

"You're drunk." Stan sneered, his eyes skimming over his friend's bedraggled appearance. His jacket hung loosley, slipping down his shoulder and revealing his orange T-shirt stained from their short lived contest. His emerald eyes were glossed over, his freckled face still showing that same damn smirk. He narrowed his eyes. "So you wanna play it like that, huh?" He shouldered off his leather jacket, shedding the red button up after it now only adorned with his white T-shirt. He pounced on his friend, topping him once more, the noirette sitting on his knees between the boy's legs. He was met with a squeal of laughter as the boy flew onto his back, grabbling with him despite his current state. He slid up between his legs, pinning his arms above his head as they tried to catch their breath.

The only sound in the room was that of labored breath, the two locking eyes. Stan slowly felt like he was retracting from reality, his thoughts a fuzzy echo in the back of his mind. Everything around him seemed to melt away. That is, everything except for Kyle. In that moment, the boy looked like a soft flickering flame. One that illuminated a path in his life with a warm glow. One that somehow managed to brace against the cold torrent of wind that swirled around in his head.

Kyle's smile faultered, his stomach flipping with something different than before. "U-uh...Stan?" His voice was a soft whisper, the boy shifting uncomfortably under him. _This is wrong_ , he thought as he realized just how loud his heartbeat was against his ears. He swallowed thickly, slipping his hands out from Stan's grip as he gently pushed against his chest. "C-can you let me up?" He gulped, the uncomfortable buzzing in his head making him feel vulnerable.

The other boy came up off of him in an instant, shifting to the edge of the bed with his eyes on the ground. _What just happened?_ He swallowed hard. He jerked his head up to the ginger and gave him a weak laugh. "Uhm...got you?" He said meekly, rubbing his hand up and down his arm in discomfort.

Kyle let a low breathy laugh escape his lips, his eyes darting between his friend and the ceiling. "Er, yeah! ...T-totally." He inhaled deeply, his eyes shifting around the room. For a moment, they only sat there in silence. An uncomfortable burning and itching silence that would make anyone want to just leap out of their skin.

"Kyle?"

"Yeah Stan?"

"Why don't we just... watch a movie."


End file.
